


Dazzling Blue

by ramblingviolinist



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Slow Burn, Turnadette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblingviolinist/pseuds/ramblingviolinist
Summary: Shelagh and her daughter Angela have just moved to Poplar, and an accident on the playground results in a trip to the hospital that will change their lives forever.





	1. Angela

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic comes from the Paul Simon song of the same name--give it a listen if you haven't heard it!  
> Modern AU Turnadette  
> Enjoy!  
> (Thanks so much to @wednesdaygilfillian for all the help!)

“Mummy, can I go play with the other children?” Angela Duncan asked excitedly as she and her mother entered the park. 

“I don’t know, darling. They look quite a bit older than you,” her mother, Shelagh, replied. 

“But I’m almost six!” Angela protested.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you played with the older children?”

Angela didn’t think she’d forget the accident anytime soon. “But that was a tree! And my arm healed quickly. You’re a nurse and you said so. This is just a playground.” 

Shelagh sighed and felt herself giving in. After all, her daughter would need to make friends in their new city eventually. “Alright, but please stay where I can see you.” And with a shout of joy Angela was off and sprinting to the monkey bars. Shelagh sat down on a nearby bench and pulled out her laptop, determined to continue her search for a suitable flat for herself and Angela. Since they’d moved to Poplar, they had been staying with a well-meaning but quite irritable distant cousin and she knew she had to find accommodations soon. 

She was about to send an email inquiring about a nice-looking, two bedroom flat when she heard a loud scream followed by crying and shouts of, “Mummy!” She shoved her laptop back into her bag and ran over to the playground. 

“Angela?” She pushed through a curious group of children to find her daughter on the ground under the monkey bars, grasping her ankle and crying out in pain.

“Mummy, my leg! Mummy, it hurts!” 

Shelagh bent down as she asked Angela questions and tried to distract her from the pain. After determining that the cause of pain was most likely a swollen ankle she picked up her daughter and they headed for the car.  
“Did someone push you?” 

“No, we were trying to see who could go across the monkey bars the fastest. I think I was going to win if I didn’t fall.” 

Shelagh shook her head but smiled and kissed her daughter’s head. “Well, I think it’s only a sprain, but we’re going to go to hospital to get an x-ray just to be sure.” 

Angela’s eyes widened with fear at the mention of the place, and once Shelagh had settled her in the car, she asked quietly, “Do we have to?”

“Have to what, darling?”

“Go to hospital?” 

“I’m afraid so,” Shelagh said sadly, knowing very well that the last time her daughter had been in a hospital was to say goodbye to her father. “It’s okay, darling. The doctors are going to take very good care of you.” 

“You said it was a sprain.” 

“We need to find out if it is for sure. I promise I’ll be with you the whole time.” 

“Okay, mummy,” Angela whispered as she stroked her rabbit, Cuthbert. 

“That’s my brave girl.”  


They pulled into the hospital car park and she thankfully found a parking space near the entrance to the A&E. She carefully carried Angela in and sat her down. Once all the necessary paperwork had been filled out, they were ushered immediately into a room, as it was not a busy day, and a kindly nurse asked Angela and Shelagh questions about the accident. 

“It only looks like a sprain, but you were right to bring her in to make sure. Doctor Turner will be in to see you shortly.” With a polite nod, the nurse left and Angela started to cry.  
Shelagh rushed to her daughter’s side. She looked so tiny in the bed, clutching Cuthbert to her chest. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to die,” she whispered. 

“Oh, Angela, you’re not going to die. Doctor Turner will have you right as rain very shortly.” 

“But daddy--”

“Your daddy was very sick, and the doctors couldn’t help him any longer. The doctors will have you running around and causing trouble again in no time.” Shelagh tried to hide the sadness in her voice. She knew she had to be strong for her daughter. They had both been through so much in Scotland before deciding to start a new life in Poplar. 

“I miss him,” Angela sniffled. 

“I know, love. I know.” Shelagh held her daughter close to her chest and rocked her until they heard a knock on the door as the doctor entered. 

“Now, Miss Angela Duncan, what can we do for you today?” he asked as he hurried in and looked down at his clipboard with the nurse’s notes. 

Shelagh took in the sight of his haggard appearance and unruly hair, finding something about his crooked grin delightfully charming and hoping he didn’t notice her slight blush as she stared. She quickly regained her composure and spoke for her daughter. “It seems as though she has sprained her ankle. I just wanted to be sure it wasn’t broken.” 

“You were right to be concerned, Mrs. Duncan.” He grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from the box on the counter. 

“It’s Miss.” She didn’t know why she corrected him. Normally she would let it slip, especially since she still wore her ring, but something about this doctor thrilled and unnerved her, and she felt the need to correct him. 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Ms. Duncan, doctor.” She noticed his eyes flick to her left hand. “My husband passed very recently.” 

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” He looked at her carefully, empathetically, as he made his way to the bed Angela was resting on.

Shelagh quickly looked down at her hands, embarrassed at having put the doctor in an awkward position. “No apology necessary, Doctor. I...understand why it’s a bit confusing.” 

There was a moment of uneasy silence before Angela spoke up.

“Mummy, my leg hurts.” 

“Right, let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr. Turner began a thorough examination of her ankle. “I think you are right, Ms. Duncan, but we just need to do an x-ray to be sure. It’s quite a bad sprain.”

“I don’t want an x-ray,” Angela whispered as she started to cry again. 

Dr. Turner placed his hand gently on Angela’s arm to comfort her. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt and your mummy will be with you the whole time,” he said gently and smiled warmly at Shelagh. 

After the x-ray was finished and it was confirmed that the ankle was indeed just sprained, Dr. Turner turned to Shelagh and asked, “Are you from around here? If you don’t mind me asking. Only your accent…”

“We’ve just moved here from Aberdeen. We thought we could use a change after….” she trailed off, both knowing how the sentence would end. “We’re just getting settled and finding a place to live. I’m a nurse, so I’ll have to look for work soon.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, there are a few positions open here, if you’d like the information.”  


“Thank you, doctor, that is very kind of you.” 

“I’ll see that the nurse gets it to you on your way out.” He turned to Angela, “And remember, no running around for a few weeks, young lady. We don’t want you irritating that sprain.” 

Angela smiled shyly at the doctor, who she had seemed to warm up to, and mumbled an, “Okay,” before hobbling out with her mother on the small pair of crutches they’d found for her. 

Once they were back at the flat, Angela enjoying a rare, mid-afternoon ice cream cone as a treat for her bravery, Shelagh began to research the nursing positions available at the hospital. She smiled when she saw several positions open in the A&E department.


	2. Timothy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely feedback on the first chapter! Now we get to meet Tim...  
> Also, for the purposes of this fic Angela is 5 and Tim is about 13-14.

A month later Shelagh had found a nice flat just outside Poplar and had gotten Angela settled at one of the primary schools. It was a brilliant Saturday morning as the sun rose in a cloudless sky, but they were stuck inside unpacking their belongings. Although neither of them had a tendency towards hoarding, Shelagh wanted to get everything unpacked and decorated before she started her new job on Monday. 

Angela wanted to hang pictures of her father around the house, pictures of the three of them from happier days, and Shelagh willingly obliged, knowing that it was important that they both remembered Alasdair. She decided to put a few up in the sitting room, a few in the hall and the bedrooms, and kept the photos of the two of them in the back of her closet, the hurt still too fresh for her to display those. 

As the sun began to fade Shelagh realized that they needed to buy more groceries for the week so she gathered Angela and they headed to the store. Angela’s ankle had healed nicely, and she now only wore a bandage which Shelagh carefully wrapped twice a day. They were nearing the produce aisle when she heard raised voices approaching. 

“Dad, why can’t I go to the park after orchestra? A bunch of us go, and I have my phone if something goes awry!” a boy, maybe 14 years old, protested. 

“Tim, you know that it’s almost dark after orchestra ends, and those parks aren’t always safe.” 

“You’re never home anyway, it’s not like you care when I get back.”

The other voice became raised and harsh. “Timothy Turner, that is not fair, and you know it. I work very hard to provide for you, and I am your father. You will respect my rules whether you agree with them or not.” 

It was precisely that moment when Shelagh turned the corner and was standing face to face with Dr. Turner and the boy she assumed was his son. 

“Hello, Dr. Turner,” she started politely and then felt foolish. Of course he wouldn’t remember her, he saw loads of patients everyday. Why was she so special? She wasn’t even the patient when she met him. “I’m sorry,” she fumbled. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Shelagh Duncan. My daughter saw you about a month ago for her--”

“Sprained ankle. Yes, of course I remember.” His eyes sparkled and he bent down to talk to Angela. “How is that ankle healing? You’ve not been running around too much I hope?”

“No, I’ve been very good and let Mummy put ice on it and wrap it for me.” 

“Wonderful. I’m sure your mother took very good care of you.” He rose back up and saw Timothy standing to the side, obviously annoyed and waiting for his father to finish socializing so they could go home. “Where are my manners? Ms. Duncan, this is Timothy. Timothy, this is Ms. Duncan and her daughter, Angela, who had quite the sprained ankle a while ago.” 

Tim mumbled a, “Nice to meet you,” as he shook Shelagh’s hand and waved at Angela. 

“I noticed that you were on the list of new nurses starting orientation on Monday,” Dr. Turner said, turning to Shelagh, who was taken aback at the thought that a doctor cared much about the nurses, especially the new staff. 

“I am. Thank you for the employment information. I’m quite looking forward to going back to work and getting into a routine again.” 

“And I’m quite looking forward to getting some new nurses. We are severely understaffed in the A&E, but our new recruits look promising.” 

“Yes, well….” An uneasy pause like the one in the room the day of Angela’s accident settled between them. 

“I’d better go, or this one will have me drawn and quartered if he doesn’t get his dinner soon.” 

“Yes, of course.” Shelagh realized she’d been staring at him during the whole conversation and abruptly lowered her head, looking down at Angela and stroking her hair gently. “I’ll see you on Monday.” 

He smiled, a half-smile that she found completely endearing for some reason. “Yes.” 

“Well that was quite awkward,” Tim chided as they moved to the next aisle. 

“How do you mean?” Dr. Turner gave his son a puzzled look as he put a large amount of frozen meals into the trolley. 

Tim shrugged. “You were acting weird, like you didn’t know what to say. And you kept tripping over your words.” 

“Hmm,” Patrick muttered nonchalantly as they finished their shopping and headed home. 

Shelagh, meanwhile, was intrigued. She didn’t know he had a son, although she supposed she didn’t know much about him at all. Furthermore, she would be lying if she didn’t admit that she’d noticed Dr. Turner’s lack of a wedding ring. “You don’t even know this man!” she scolded herself, willing her imagination to not get carried away. “Maybe he just doesn’t wear his ring to work. He is a doctor.” She thought about the argument she’d heard before she’d seen them and realized that he probably wasn’t married after all.


	3. New Beginnings

Shelagh could feel the curious stares of the other nurses as she walked through the locker room, quickly locating hers and shoving her things in haphazardly before starting to change into her scrubs. She knew she was visibly shaking and jumped when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry to have startled you! I’m Jenny Lee, and I assume that you’re Shelagh Duncan?” 

“It’s alright. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I’ve been doing this for over a decade!” Shelagh shook Nurse Lee’s hand. “Yes, I’m Shelagh, it’s lovely to meet you.” 

“Not to worry, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of things soon.” Jenny introduced her to the other nurses-- Nurse Franklin, Nurse Crane, Nurse Hereward, Nurse Dyer, Nurse Miller, and Nurse Anderson-- before whisking her away to show her around the A&E. 

She had completely forgotten about Dr. Turner until they almost collided coming around the same corner, both moving much too quickly and in a hurry to see to urgent cases. 

“Nurse Duncan!” he exclaimed quickly as he passed, as it took her a moment to recognize him. 

“Hello, Doctor Turner!” she called, but he had already turned the next corner. 

The next time they saw each other was in the break room two weeks later. Shelagh had just emerged from the locker room, fresh and ready for the day, and Dr. Turner was sitting at the table, hands covering his face as he rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh. 

“Everything all right, Doctor Turner?” Shelagh asked carefully as she took the seat next to him, hoping he wouldn’t mind the imposition.

Dr. Turner looked up quickly, startled by the sound of her voice. She could see then that he was tired and probably hadn’t slept in quite some time.   
“Sorry, Nurse Duncan. I didn’t see you there.” 

“Is everything all right?” she repeated her question. 

“My patient… just… right on the operating table. I knew he had no chance, but I tried…” Dr. Turner trailed off and Shelagh resisted the urge to take his hands in hers to offer her support.

“Doctor Turner, you know these things happen. It wasn’t your fault…” 

“I know, I know, they do, but--” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Nurse Hereward came in and quickly addressed the doctor.

“Doctor Turner, you’re being sent home to rest now.” 

“Nurse Hereward, I still have two hours of my shift left. I can finish it. Please, just let me--”

“Doctor Turner, please. If you don’t mind my saying so, you need to go home and take care of yourself and your son,” Shelagh pleaded, hoping she didn’t sound or look too desperate. Something--or the way she said it-- must have gotten through to him because he slowly stood up and turned to leave.

“Wait. The rest of my shift--”

“Is being covered by Doctor Maxwell. Please, doctor.” Barbara shooed him out. When he was out of earshot she turned to Shelagh and said, “I worry about him. I know he has Timothy, but he was never the same since Marianne passed away.” 

“His wife? When did that happen?” Shelagh asked, curious for some reason about the widower and his young son. 

“Yes, she passed away of cancer about four years ago. He never quite moved on, and I fear that Timothy’s feeling the effects of that too.” 

It was another two weeks before they got to speak to each other again, only seeing each other in passing or in an operating room. It was a rainy Thursday, and Shelagh had been in such a hurry to get Angela to school on time that she’d forgotten her umbrella in the front hall. She ducked her head and bolted from her car, trying to get to the hospital before her clothes were soaked through. She was almost to the entrance when she heard her name.

“Nurse Duncan, is that you?” 

She turned around, her glasses covered in raindrops, but she could vaguely make out the outline of Dr. Turner moving towards her. “Doctor Turner?”

He ran up to her, covering her with his umbrella. They continued walking to the hospital, something about their proximity of him sending tingles through Shelagh’s spine. “Did you not see the forecast today?” he teased.

“I did, although having to get a five year old dressed, fed, and in the car on time often creates an obstacle in one’s memory and one forgets one’s umbrella in the front hall, laid out for it’s proper usage.” 

Doctor Turner smiled empathetically, lowering the umbrella as they stepped through the doors and made their way to the locker rooms. “I remember those days. Thankfully Timothy can usually get himself dressed, fed, and on the bus by himself without my help.”

“Has it been long since…” Shelagh started, hoping she was not overstepping her bounds and not wanting the doctor to know she already knew the answer to the question.

“Four years, but we’ve gotten through it. Thanks to the help of the nurses here and the people in the church my wife used to attend, we’ve managed to carry on.” His voice sounded heavy and he quickly changed the subject. “Why don’t we exchange numbers? If you ever need an extra hand, just text me. I usually have my phone on all hours.”

Shelagh was taken aback at the suggestion. “Doesn’t this blur the professional boundary, Doctor Turner? It’s very kind, but I just don’t want talk.”

“It’s good of you to be concerned, Nurse, but we are all adults and there are no hospital rules on socializing outside of the workplace. If you don’t want--”

“No, yes, of course, I want…” Shelagh stumbled over her words as she pulled her phone out of her purse. They exchanged numbers quickly and prepared for their busy shifts. 

That night, as she was helping Angela build a block castle, she got a text. 

“Dinner on Saturday? My treat. You can ask one of the nurses to watch Angela. -Patrick.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I have ever published and one of the first I have written--feedback is greatly appreciated! :)


End file.
